The Clock Stopper
by cyle
Summary: A thousand years or more ago...There lived four wizards of reknown...They hatched a daring plan...Thus Hogwarts School began..."


Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters. JK Rowling does (and a good thing to)

**Chapter 1**

Sometimes it seems impossible to believe this ever happened. And whenever that feeling settles in, it is a moment to remember what made it happen in the first place. It is also a moment to pause and recollect that, yes, once upon a time what happened had been the most important event. However time is a force to be reconned with. Time can destroy anything it wishes to destroy. Let me tell you a story that took place, oh, a very long time ago.

Harry entered the Hall of Colours. It was empty, as usual. His footsteps, though soft, still resonnated in the room. Not that this place was a room. It wasn't even a hall. It was just a corridor, though a very odd one. Harry considered this corridor his favourite, to his personal amusement, though he would never admit as much to Ron or Hermione. It was unmannly, even downright ridiculous to have a 'favourite corridor'. But it was impossible not to appreciate the churchlike serenity of the place.

The corridor was odd firstly by its placement. It looked as if it had been added to the castle as an after thought. On Harry's right as he walked in was a high stone wall with only one massive oak door. However above the door, on the next level there were windows, windows of the classrooms looking down on the corridor. On the other side of these classrooms were two perfectly convenient corridors, which led to both levels. The Hall of Colours, as Harry liked to call it, was totally unnecessary. But then, thought Harry, secret passages all over the castle was not necessary except to run away from Filch. Actually, Harry hadn't discovered the Hall until his fifth year, as he perused the Marauder's Map, one of the last memories of his godfather, and wondered the castle corridors aimlessly.

He looked around and heaved a great sigh of contentment. He'd loved this place ever since he first saw it. It was as though when he walked in this room, the light had washed away every worry in the world and he had been left with nothing but appeasement. Here, he could accept events. Yes, Sirius was dead. Yes, he was bound by prophecy. But in this room the entire world melted away into a dream and all that was left was peace.

It was probably the colours that affected him this way. When he named this place the Hall of colour, he was rather accurate. What made this corridor so special was the stained glass windowsthat rose magnificently high above the ground, nearly touching the ceiling. These windows faced east, catching the morning light. There were four of these great works of art, rising a few meters over Harry's head: a wizard with a sword, sitting on a sleeping dragon; a woman with a unicorn; a man and a wolf walking side by side under a full moon; and finally a centaur gazing up at one lone star.

Harry gazed at the colours dancing on the opposite wall. Then suddenly he frowned. There was somthing wrong with the patterns in one area of the wall, as if a particular pathch of light had been cut out to reveal the plain unilluminated wall behind. Something was obstructing the light. He turned to the third window, with the werewolf, and gaped. There sat on the windowsill a teenage girl, about his age, dressed in Muggle clothes. She was gazing out through the stainglass and seemed completely unaware of her surroundings, leanig against the wall, one leg swinging distractedly off the windowsill.

He stared for a moment then finally spoke:

" How on earth did you get up there?"

This, he thought was a pertinent question because there was no way anyone could climb the wall without breaking their necks and there was no ladder nor furniture to climb. She looked down at him as if he was a hippogriff with a bad case of dementia, then, her voice completely blank as if she wasn't really thinking about what she was saying, she answered:

"I self levitated myself of course."

"Of course" said Harry sarcastically "self levitation, why didn't i think of it, it's obvious. The only problem is that self levitation is the seventh year Advanced Charms program."

She grinned at him.

"And what tells you I'm not in the seventh year advanced charms class?"

Harry paused to ponder this. He had not thought of that. After all, maybe she was in seventh year. She did not seem to expect an answer, however, because she swung both legs off the windowsill, perched on the edge, leaned forwards and frowned at him.

"You don't do self levitation until seventh year?" she asked, sounding surprised "Gosh, things have changed. They've made the program a lot easier, I dare say."

Harry just looked at her blankly.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

She grinned at him again and patted the space next to her on the ledge.

"Why don't you come join me up here and have a chat?"

Harry stared at her.

"How do you want me to get up there?"

"Why, by self levitating yourself of course." She said with an innocent face.

"Of course" said Harry slowly, so that she would understand "the problem is, I don't know _how_ to."

"Don't say you don't know until you tried" she said briskly "Slower pupils than you have managed before. Now repeat slowly: 'Ego Volare'."

"Ego Volare."

"Good. Now get out your wand. Lift both hands in the air. Make a circling motion and a flick..."

"Like Wingardium Leviosa?"

"Like that, yes, except that when you flick you touch your head. Lightly mind. Now go on."

"Ego Volare,"pronouced Harry, with the proper movements. He found himself floating a mter or so upwards but stopped there, without going any further. She smiled down at him.

"Good start. Most people don' manage anything on the first try."

"Probably because I've had so much practice with wingardium leviosa." Which was true as it had been a useful spell in many of his misadventures.

"The two may seem similar but they are actually not at all linked. Because you see in self levitation there is a whole focus and concentration that's very important but you don't need it in simple levitating. Self-levitation actually has a whole combination of effects on your body. But I'll get to that once you're at my hight. Now, put your arms down quickly."

Harry did so and fell back down to the floor.

"Mind you don't do that when you're fifty meters in the air." She said with a grin. He grinned back.

"Now, you're going to have to imaginethe feeling of soaring upward forever, going up, up, up. Picture the feeling that a balloon has when it floats to the sky."

She lifted her arms and closed her eyes in focus.

"It's a wonderful sensation, like you're free of all the chains that bind you to the earth."

She started floating upwards. She opened her eyes and looked down at herself.

"Now that won't do. Down!" and she crashed back down on the ledge. "Ow!" she grimaced. Harry laughed.

He closed his eyes and focused. It was hard at first but then he gradually mastered the feeling till he thought he really was floating. He repeated the incantation and felt himself float upwards, upwards, upwards...

"Stp! STOP!"

He opened his eyes. He was around the girl's level now. He kept his arms carefully above him. She smiled encouragingly.

"That's really good. I can tell you, not many people master it so quickly" She frowned at him in mock suspicion. "You're not leading me on or summat? About self spelling in seventh year, are y'?"

He laughed.

"No, I'm not."

Harry studied her. He was sure he had never seen her at Hogwarts before. Besides if she was a student she should be wearing the uniform.

"Who are you?" he asked "I've never seen you at Hogwarts before."

"And I suppose you know everyone at Hogwarts, don't y'?" she said sardonnically. "I'll tell you all that if you manage it to the ledge." She said with an evil grin. "Now to stear yourself use your arms."

"How?"

"I don't know! It should be instinctive, usually."

"Ah." Said Harry making it very plain what he thought of her teaching.

"Give it a try. Usually when I lower my arms slowly to have them in front of me I go forward."

Harry did so but did not budge.

"Well i'm in a bit of a pickle, aren't I?" he said with a sigh.

"Yes," scoffed the girl, who seemed unable to control her laughter "you are."

Tired of calling her 'the girl', he asked:

" What's your ..."

"HARRY POTTER!". He was interrupted by a loud shriek. He only had time to see the girl jump before he was crashing back to earth. A rather dizzy moment later, he found himself lying on the floor with a furious McGonagald looming over him.

"What on earth were you doing?" she demanded.

"What?" said Harry, slightly dazed.

"I asked what on earth you were doing, floating up there?"

"I was practicing self levitation." Answered Harry stupidly.

She looked completely taken aback and blinked.

"You do realise you do not start self spelling till seventh year?"

"I know." Said Harry just as stupidly.

"Then, how did you come about to practice it, and, may I add, manage it?"

"Er... Well the girl who's sitting on the window ledge up there was teaching me, you see, so I could join her for a chat, but I was a little stuck on how to direct myself once i was floating."

McGonagald gave him a bemused look, then stared up at the window. She looked back down at him, then back at the window. Harry, however, did not understand her confusion, but was busy getting up to care. She supported him as he got unsteadily to his feet.

"Are you sure the fall didn't give you a shock, Potter?"

"Why?"

"Well about the girl..." she seemed rather awkward.

"She's up there" he said pointing to the werewolf window without looking. "She self levitated herself and she's teaching me how to do it, aren't you?" He looked up. There was no one there. He looked back at McGonagald who was looking at him strangely.

"Obviously, she's not going to answer because she isn't there."

"What did she...tell you exactly?"

"Nothing much. Not even a name."

"What did she look like?"

Harry frowned. The girl had been rather non descript, not particularly pretty, but rather nice to look at, her features delicate, a small nose, big eyes though he did not remeber the colour, hazel,maybe, or a murky green. He wasn't sure becauseshe had been sitting down but she looked rather on the small side and slim. He repeated all this to McGonagald. She frowned and seemed to be thinking very hard.

"Very well Mr Potter"she said briskly "I would like a word with you after your lessons. Because I believe you have a charm's class at the moment?" she added, narrowing her eyes at him and he swore she was hiding a smile. He started and looked at his watch. He was fifteen minutes late.

"Damn!" he axclaimed, ignoring McGonagald's reproving stare and started running tothe Charm's classroom.

"Mr Potter." McGonagald's voice rang out. He stopped and turned around.

"Tell professor Flitwick that I called you to my office, that is why you are late." And with that she turned and walked briskly the other way.

Harry just stared at her. Had she just advised him to tell a downright lie to escape trouble? And, furthermore, at her expense? Had she just used her authority to get him out of this mess? She must have gone mad, he thought. It defied logic. But then again, it would save him a lot of trouble to take her advice. He frowned and shook his head. Next thing you know, Snape _will _be handing sweets in class. He suddenly remembered that he was late for Charms and sprinted down the corridor.

A/N: Please review. Flames accepted (though probably ignored)


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